“Thanks, man. Don’t forget what I said though.”
“I won’t.” I hung up the phone. All the phone calls I wanted to make for the day were out of the way, except for one that was most important to me. I had a few other things to do in the warehouse and Misty’s voice was the one I wanted to end the night with.
I turned the music up loud and drowned everything out as I scanned the Honda on the platform. I ran an engine check with a compression test and checked out the oil pressure. I topped it up and ran the engine again. I listened to the beautiful hum. Satisfied, I moved to the aesthetics of the bike. The fender had a crack in it. Nothing major. I had the right glue to put a hold in it. I repaired bikes but I didn’t do the aesthetics unless it was banging out the lumps and bumps. I’d found a contact who did it in Merced and I thought I would pass it onto the bike owner. I put my hands on the tires and tested them, observing the tread. Not bad, in good condition. Looked like the rider hadn’t taken the bike out for a while. Next, I tugged at the cables and checked their inputs and they were in good condition too. Aside from a couple issues, this Honda was an easy service to work with. I made good time and when I looked up at the warehouse clock it was twelve p.m. I worked steadily until four. No excitement jumped off in the warehouse. It was eerily quiet. I flicked off the radio and stepped out of my coveralls. The weather was a little muggy, triggering a memory of riding twenty-deep with my brothers and engines, purring down the highway to Tijuana. I chuckled as I thought about it.
I mounted my bike and headed over to The Partition, the same place Misty had ended up at. Looked different in the light of day, not so glamorous. Not so many cars in the parking lot either. I dismounted from my bike and headed into the bar. A dude with spiky hair came to me.
“Hey, man, how are you doing? What can I get for you?”
“I’ll take a Jack and Coke.” He winked and doubled back. “You want ice in that?”
“Yes please.” I looked around with interest. Weird music. Some trance-like beat. A couple in the back who should have gotten a hotel room and another lady who looked like she’d had some surgery done. She caught my eye and winked. I glanced at her. Her dark auburn hair looked like a weave. Big breasts, definitely enhanced; they didn’t move as she walked. She was wearing a green skin-tight dress that stopped at the bottom of her coochie. She had it all hanging out. Big brown eyes and large plump lips. I smiled a little as I found it amusing. I watched as she made her way to me.
“Hey there, Mr. Biker Boy. How you doing?” She ran her finger across the back of my neck and it made goosebumps stand up on my neck. I flicked her off.
“What can I do for you?” I asked in an irritated voice.
“Well, it’s the other way round. I wanted to know what I can do for you.” She slid in the barstool next to me and perched her face in her hand.
“Not a goddamn thing.” The bartender looked at me and then looked at the frisky woman and sat my Jack down in front of me. I picked it up with my thumb and index finger and let the black liquid slide down my throat. I gave her the side-eye.
She laughed with a husky tone and touched my forearm. I drew it back.
“Oh stop it, you’re flattering me. It’s too much,” she giggled. I gave her a flat-out glare. “Look, I gotta make my money somehow. Plus I saw your patches on the back of your vest. I thought you might be up for it. Most of you are up here.” She’d piqued my interest now.
“Okay, so you got a few on a roster, do you?”
“Yes, I do, honey. They love them some Mimi.”
I laughed then and loosened up. “Mimi, can I buy you a drink? I don’t wanna fuck you, though. I got a girl. But I’m sure you get a lot of work.” I looked her over once more.
She beamed. “Sure, I wouldn’t mind a drink and thanks for not sending me away.”
“You’re welcome.”
I put up one finger to the bartender and whispered to Mimi, “What you drinking?”
“I’m having what you’re having…” She licked her lips and ogled me some more. I sat still. The bartender didn’t have much to do. He was busy wiping down the bar and headed our way.
“Hey, Mimi, what are you sippin’ on?” She pointed to my drink. He saluted her and smiled. “Got it.”
“You know him?” I asked. She repositioned herself on the stool.
“Yep. I come here a lot. My customers are here.”
“Okay.”
“Here you go, Mimi.” Mimi took her drink and rocked to the beat in the club.
“So you were talking about bikers. Are a lot of them in here and where are they from?” I waited for her answer patiently.
“Hmm, some retired bikers that aren’t in chapters anymore. But I have regular clients from Las Balas.”
My ears perked up. “Las Balas, huh? Anyone I know?” I grinned to make her comfortable.
“Hmm. I don’t know who you know. But two guys tried to recruit me. They were trying to pimp me. Slapped me around after the fact. I had to run and call my other girls. We got a code. I warn ‘em about hitters.”
My back bristled. I hated men who hit women. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Mimi. You good now?”
